Starship Troopers
by paradoxmachine
Summary: Two Captains, one spaceship, a ragtag pirate crew, and a ghost. John Hart tells lies. Jack Harkness keeps secrets. Adventures ensue. In space! [Post-CoE, some time in the future. Jack/Ianto, John/Anything and Everything]
1. A Swagger and a Twang

**Part 1: Where We Start From**

* * *

"Well, well, well."

Captain Jack Harkness' ears were ringing loudly, a side effect of home-grown teleports. But his atoms were all in the right places, which was all that really mattered- and he'd even managed to land _inside_, which was pretty fortunate.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Through the noise and despite his foggy mind, Jack heard a familiar voice. An unmistakable voice. A voice he especially didn't want to hear while kneeling in the loading dock of an unknown space ship.

"Oh, this is unbelievable!" Jack said, squinting into the light of an open doorway. "Of all the ships in the universe, how the hell did I end up on one with _you_?"

Leaning against the doorframe, a silhouette dressed in red, was Captain John Hart.

"Not _a _ship," John said, eyes narrowed, a smirk on his face. He cocked his head to the side. "_My _ship."

"_Captain_," Jack said sarcastically, straightening his coat as he climbed to his feet, still trying to get his bearings.

"Captain," John returned, one hand on his hip with a thumb hooked on the holster, the other at his forehead in a mock salute. "Would you look at that, someone's wandered into someone else's territory again, and this time it's _mine_."

"Acquired legally through an exchange of currency, I'm sure," said Jack.

John gave an exaggerated shrug. "The previous Captain died, so I took up the mantle. Nothing wrong with that."

"Of natural causes, right?"

"Bleeding out's pretty natural." John grinned at him. "So, Captain Jack, what brings you around this part of the galaxy? Out on holiday? Or perhaps you were looking for me. Get bored of your little team?"

"Something like that," said Jack.

"Coulda phoned ahead if you wanted somewhere to stay." John swayed a little with every step as he descended the small staircase and paced toward him.

"It was sort of a last minute decision," said Jack, leaning away as John leaned in close. John tsked, but didn't step back.

"Well, as I'm the hospitable sort," John said with a coy tilt of his head, "Maybe I'll grant you shelter- for a price."

"Which would be?" Jack frowned.

"Well, stop looking at me like I'm a spider creeping up your bed, for a start."

"And?"

"And I'll tell you the rest later."

Jack laughed. "Yeah, right."

But it wasn't as if he had a lot of options. The last ship he'd been hitchhiking on was long gone, and it was only pure luck there had been another near enough to jump to.

"Well come on, then," John said, draping an arm around his shoulders. "I'll give you the grand tour."

* * *

Jack fought to remain expressionless as John led him down a corridor and deeper into the interior of the ship. John held no such reservations; he moved with a restless energy, like a kid anxious to show off a new toy.

"No fancy lifts or rolling doors, I'm afraid," John said, keying in a code.

A pair of thick metal doors swung open with a creak, opening on a much larger room. Before him sprawled an intricate array of platforms and arched walls, grating and loose wires and piping. Orange and yellow lights lit the bronze fixtures with a metallic sheen. It managed to look both gritty and high-tech.

"A hub, and-" John pressed a button, and the lights grew brighter, illuminating work stations and ramps weaving off into other unseen rooms.

Someone seated at one of the desks winced away from the light. A large creature scampered out down one of the halls.

"-And a _team_," John's almost wicked grin had turned to an annoyed scowl. "Who are being _very _rude to our new guest."

The man still sitting at the desk gave a curt wave.

"Well isn't that _cute_," Jack said skeptically, raising both his eyebrows.

"You're not the only one who's allowed to have a team," said John. He looked unfazed by Jack's reaction. "_Team!_"

He slammed a big red 'emergency' button on the wall, and the room erupted into a cacophony of alarms and flashing lights.

From the far corners of the room emerged three other people, two with guns, and the third with long claws and a pair of scythe-like protrusions at the ready.

"Excalibur," John said proudly, "Meet Captain Jack Harkness."

"Nobody actually calls us Excalibur," the man at the desk called flippantly, barely audible over the wailing of the alarms. John hit a second button, and the alarms stopped.

With the lighting returned to normal, Jack could clearly see the group that John had assembled. The closest- the man at the desk- appeared to be almost human; but his skin was too pale, opalescent, and embedded with gemstones, and his eyes were black with slit gold irises.

The three clustered in the center with their weapons out were more obviously alien. One was bulky and heavily furred, with white eyes barely visible under a thick black mane. Next to him was a marsupial-esque female that stood upright on digitigrade legs and had odd, long-fingered hands. Thin, veined membranes spanned the gaps between her limbs and torso. Behind them was a smaller creature, with a long, thin beak and eerie empty eyes.

Jack took them in for a moment, then said, "No invertebrates, though. You need an invertebrate."

"Oh, I have one!" said John, "But he's busy keeping my ship from getting friendly with asteroids."

"Okay, it's homey, and they all seem nice," said Jack. All weapons were still trained on him. "Little bit monkey-see, monkey-do, but I'll take it as a compliment. Since when do you play well with others enough to have a 'team'?"

"Could've said the same to you the last few times we've met," John said with a shrug and a smile.

"But what's it all _for_?"

"What do you think it's for?" John paced around demonstratively, taking up the stance of a captain among his crew. "Outside the government, beyond the police? We _steal shit_."

"Oh, that's what it is. You fancy yourself a pirate, now?" Jack said, grinning.

"Why not?" John snapped, grinning back at him defiantly.

"Whatever works for you, I guess," said Jack. "Do they have names?"

"Sacha at the desk, the big guy's called Cobalt, the pretty woman is Xxarxyxxlz-"

"Xar is fine," she interrupted. "He just thinks the kss kss thing is funny. Bit racist."

"-and the little one," John continued, "Is Finch."

"Great to meet you," said Jack. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and_ I'm_ not a space pirate."

"Yeah, about that," said John. "The second half of the deal- if you're going to stay on _my _ship, you're going to have to earn like the rest of us."

John swooped up close to him. "It'll be just like old times. You, me, and a million planets just begging to be scammed."

"I thought I made it clear that I'm past that," said Jack.

John threw up his arms. "Okay, find another ride, then. Oh wait, there isn't one. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not. Isn't that great? We'll finally get to spend some time together."

"…Okay," Jack shrugged. "What do I have to lose?"

"Great!" said John. "Now that we have that out of the way, I have a surprise for you!"

Jack was familiar with John's surprises, and with the feeling that always accompanied them. Apprehension, but with just a sliver of excitement. John, at least, seemed absolutely _thrilled_. Grinning broadly, that manic look in his eyes, John pressed a button and a panel on the wall slid open. Jack could hear a scratching noise, and the sound of flapping wings.

Then something appeared from the hole with a very familiar screech.

"You got a pterodactyl!?" Jack said incredulously.

"Not _a_," said John. "_Yours. _You're welcome, by the way."

"But how did you-"

"Dinosaur net," John said smugly.

"But."

Jack stared at the creature as it swooped above them once, and then landed with a clatter of metal. Again, it screeched loudly. Jack Harkness was only to some degree a dinosaur expert, but there was no doubting it. This was Myfanwy, the last MIA member of Torchwood Three, found at last, alive and well.

"You're welcome," said John.

Myfanwy screeched again, before taking wing to circle idly above them, clearly waiting for food as a reward for the spectacle.

Jack watched her fly, overtaken with bitter nostalgia. So much had gone wrong. So much had been lost. But here was this, this one thing: his pterodactyl, safe and sound.

"John," he said, and just for a moment his callous demeanor faltered. "…Thank you."

"You're welcome," John said again, smirking.

"No, seriously," said Jack. "Thank you."

Jack's stance was wavering. His eyes were going out of focus, speckled with a growing fog of black. John was saying something, but he couldn't hear what it was.

And then Jack Harkness passed out.

* * *

Jack opened his eyes to a spartan room, lit only with the red glow of a heater. He was lying on the only cot, and there was very little else in the room. A couple of empty shelves. A chair. Oh, and a man in the chair.

"Not like you to get travel sick," John said, tipping his chair back to prop his feet up on the end of Jack's cot.

"You try space jumping with a teleporter made of branches and spit, and with instable coordinates to boot." Jack stretched dramatically and sat up. "See if you don't end up with a hangover from hell."

"It's endearing, is all," said John. "Immortal ex-time agent, ex-con man, ex-bikini cop, having fainting spells like a fair maiden on my deck."

"What, were you waiting for me to wake up just to taunt me?"

"Oh, you know me," John said with a shrug. "I like to watch you sleep."

"I'm just surprised I woke up in bed alone," said Jack.

John shrugged again. "I considered."

"That's it, though? Really?"

"Well, no," said John. "I was thinking we could talk business, but you're still looking a little green around the gills. D'you need more nap time?"

"You know me," Jack said, grinning. "Always at the ready."

Jack _was _still feeling sick, but it had nothing to do with the teleporter. His fevered dreams had taken a turn for the worse, and though he couldn't remember what exactly had happened, his stomach churned with anxiety and his ears still rang with clipped scraps of voices.

"You say that like I don't know you," John said, patting him firmly on the shoulder.

"Didn't expect you to be so considerate," said Jack. "It's not like you."

"You think I'm not thoughtful? I can be thoughtful." John rolled languidly to his feet, letting his chair thump back to the ground with a clatter. "Whatever, happy beauty sleep. And if you get lonely, you know who to call."

Jack sat stiffly until the door clicked shut, before sighing out a deep breath and falling back onto the cot.

He closed his eyes, and forced himself to breathe slowly, and let any sense of focus fall away, emptying his mind completely. He heard and felt nothing but his own steady pulse.

"Can you hear me?" He whispered, to the empty room.

He'd never done this before, despite having gone through some basic psychic training in his earlier days at Torchwood. It felt a little bit like praying, which was odd for a man who couldn't die and put so little merit in 'faith.'

But this would be the way to do it, right? He'd weave a new telekinetic connection, and find the voice that slept inside him.

The incorporeal Ianto Jones.

He still didn't understand exactly how it had happened, how the 'soul' of Ianto dragged from the void had managed to cling on to him instead of being pulled back into the space between worlds. But he didn't want to think about it too hard. If it was craziness, that was fine too. But his last brief connection with him hadn't felt like an echo or a hallucination.

"Ianto?"

He didn't let the silence perturb him. He kept reaching, groping in the darkness.

"Ianto."

"Jack," came a voice. It sounded tired, but clear. "What?"

Jack smiled. In this silence, with no crisis to tear at him, he could hear Ianto's voice as if he were in the same room with him. He could still remember all the faces he'd make. He remembered all the looks that he'd memorized and stored away in a place that had hurt to think of. It was all coming back, but this time with the tiniest shred of hope. Jack was more than willing to cling to that.

"What's it like on the brain plane? What can you see?"

He heard Ianto sigh. "Anything you can hear or see, but only if I focus."

"Focus on resting," Jack said quietly.

"And leave you alone with _John_? Oh no. I'll be here." A pause. "Tragedy that I won't be able to quip at him, though."

"I'll be double snarky, just for you." Jack sat up again, and opened his eyes on a world that seemed, just this once, to be brighter.

Ianto laughed a polite, welsh laugh that turned a little less polite because he couldn't seem to stop.

"Right," said Ianto. "Good luck with that, sir."


	2. Bad Moon Rising

_**BWAP!**_

Jack was on his feet before the blare of the air horn had even finished, already reaching for his coat and with his hand on his gun. An old fashion speaker crackled to life with a hiss of static, followed by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Good morning, Excalibur!" came John's voice, amplified to a roar. "I hope you're all ready for a treasure hunt, because we're disembarking in, oh, let's say… 20 minutes."

"And counting," mumbled the voice in Jack's head. It was an automatic response, like the way a member of a marching band might unconsciously fall into step when walking with someone.

Jack sighed. He paused to stretch dramatically before settling into his coat, majestically disheveled. Then he palmed the switch to open the door, and stepped out into the corridors of the ship.

The lighting was dimmer here, even less carefully maintained, some of them flickering. Classy. Without a map to guide him, Jack picked a direction at random and started walking. He had no idea how large a ship John had 'obtained,' but eventually he'd find the right room, or a very wrong room, or maybe a member of the crew.

Jack keyed another switch, and abruptly found himself face-to-face with options 2 and 3.

A thin creature with a long beak and wearing a white coat stood hunched over a table in the middle of a brightly lit, sterile room. Body bags littered the floor. Its coat was stained up to the elbows in blood, and its hands buried in a corpse lying on the table.

It looked up as the door slid open, catching Jack's gaze with a pair of large, empty white eyes.

"Right. Let's see what's behind door number 2, then." Jack said, about-facing back into the hallway.

He hadn't gone more than a few steps, though, before he was accosted by someone else. The very large creature from before, crouched and crowded into a hallway built for people half its height. From up close, Jack could see that its black fur shimmered with green and teal, like oil on water or the glossy feathers of a crow.

"You're lost," it said plainly.

"Meandering," Jack said with a shrug.

"In the wrong direction."

Jack shrugged again. "Road less travelled, eh?"

"But in the wrong direction," the creature repeated, narrowing pale eyes that were the only thing visible among a thick mane that covered all of its head and most of its upper body. It seemed to consider him for a moment, before turning in a clattering of limbs. "Suit yourself."

Jack turned to follow it.

"I wouldn't mind if you showed me around," Jack said, flashing it a trademark grin, wasted because all Jack could see of him now was the back end of a set of curved claws reminiscent of a lobster's. Jack tried to remember the name he'd been given, but John's flashy introduction was a bit of a blur. A color, or an element? Cobalt, maybe?

"I'm sure," was all the reply Cobalt gave him.

He followed him down several winding hallways before they ended up at a corridor he vaguely recognized, the one that lead down to the loading dock.

Inside, several members of the crew were already gathered. John was there too, slouched against a stack of metal crates.

"So nice of you to join us," John said with a grin. He pushed off with his elbows and strolled leisurely toward them, hands on his hips. "Come now, what's with the pout? I thought we parted on pretty good terms, considering."

"I've considered," said Jack.

"Don't be like that," said John. He came forward and grabbed both of Jack's hands. "You should be excited, I've got it all planned out. We were already en route to this mining planet when you _joined_ us, so lucky you, straight into adventure."

"A mining planet?" Jack said, pulling his hands away and taking a step back. "That seems a little too… straightforward, for you."

"Don't worry," said John. "We're not here for silly minerals. There's something _better_. Something rare, and only produced on this little chunk of rock."

"Great," said Jack. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is everything that'll try to eat us on the way," came another voice, from the guy John had introduced as Sacha. He was strapping on weapons from a large array along one wall. "Lots of caves, so I'm thinking spiders- maybe giant ones. That's what it usually is."

"What's a few arachnids?" said the Marsupialoid female, Xar. She was securing large gun straps to her legs. "Eat 'em for breakfast."

"You wish," said Sacha. "Maybe back on Rekkaxxylon. Or are you the special one who gets something other than synthesized nutrients?"

"No rule saying I can't get synthetized spiders along with my synthesized bacon and eggs," said Xar. "Don't be a whiner."

"Come now, no quarreling in front of our guest," John said. "Where's the synergy?"

"You stabbed me in the gut last week," said Sacha.

"Let bygones be bygones," John said flippantly. "So, here's the plan. We're going to need to chat up the locals, find out exactly where the orbs are located. Jack and I can take care of that. Xar and Cobalt, you look for points of entry, scope out how heavily the place is guarded, yadda yadda. Sacha, go with them and run some tests, or whatever it is you do."

The hatch was opening, flooding the docking bay with natural light and the mixed smells of sulfur, dust, and standing water.

"Do I get a say in this?" said Jack.

"How about no?" said John. "My crew, my gig, my _show_, remember? Come on, it'll be _fun_."

"That's what I'm afraid of," said Jack.

* * *

Stepping onto the alien soil of a new planet never lost its sense of wonder. It took a moment for Jack's eyes to adjust as he stared into a sea green sky, and across a craggy landscape of dark stone and thick moss. It was cool and breezy, almost uncomfortably so, and Jack was grateful that he had his coat.

There was a long moment of silence as the crew adjusted to their new surroundings.

And then Xar said, "Okay, what am I looking at? Nothing? Whole lotta nothing?"

"We still have the hike into town," said Sacha.

"But I don't see a town."

"You're not looking in the right place," Sacha said smugly. "Try looking _down_."

In a synched moment of thought they did, eyes scouring the rocky cliffside for something almost invisible at first glance. Up the face of the cliffs were the usual dotting of caves, but on closer inspection there were a whole lot more than average. And if one squinted, they could almost make out the tiny unnatural protrusions of stone that spiraled into haphazard paths.

No bridges. Nothing obviously man-made, not even the usual mining tools. If it weren't for the computer readings, the planet might have been dead.

"The real party's at the verrrry bottom," said Sacha. "Down a charmingly ill-used elevator. Unless you'd rather climb."

John shot him an annoyed pout that was all narrowed eyes and pursed lips, which brought his chiseled cheekbones into stark relief.

"Trust me," said Jack, "He knows how to handle a shaft."

"Well thank you," John said with a grin, words dripping with smug self-satisfaction. "You weren't so bad yourself, once."

The corner of Jack's mouth twitched in ill-hidden amusement. "Was that a jab at my age, greybeard?"

"Something like that, yeah," said John, "but I'd love for you to prove me wrong."

"Wouldn't you just?" Jack said, shaking his head.

Behind them, the rest of the party were clearing out to deal with their elsewheres, leaving Jack and John alone at the top of a dramatic cliffside.

"And now here's the part where you go down on me," John said, rubbing moss off a large rocky protrusion with the heel of his boot. Under the heavy plant coverage was the vague outline of a door.

Jack dug his fingers under the corners of the sliding door, slowly prying it open. The dank elevator shaft visible beyond smelled worse than that time he'd gone drinking with a troup of Lactoads.

"Lead the way, Captain," Jack said challengingly.

John grinned and grabbed his hand, pulling him into the cramped elevator. Behind them, the door slammed shut, and the elevator began to fall.

* * *

There was something moving in the dark. Something with five fingers creeping up the back of his thigh.

"Stop that," Jack said, choking on dust.

"_That's_ not the safe word," John crooned.

Despite the rickety appearance, their descent had been relatively smooth and painless. It was a well-crafted tool made tacky through lack of use.

Jack ran his fingers through his hair. John adjusted his coat. And then in unison, like soldiers, they marched together out of the elevator and into the swamp.

The smell here was stronger than ever, a rank mixing pot of stenches that never should have been on a first-name basis.

"Alright," Jack said, his voice comically distorted because he was holding his nose. "Where do we start?"

"I'll bet the natives are a sight for sore eyes," John said, striding straight into the mud.

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it," said Jack, following him.

"Oh, I'll try it. I'll knock anything."

Down at the bottom of the crag, below a heavy layer of yellow-green smog, was a symbiotic conglomeration of stone and vines, so thick and tangled it was hard to tell where any of it began or ended. The texture of the ground varied from kinda moist, to pretty damp, to water up past their knees. Kelp pulled at their boots, twisting around their ankles and feeling more like hands than plants at times. Jack even imagined he'd heard one crack like a broken bone as he kicked it away.

"Do you see anything yet?" Jack said, peering through the fog. Already his lungs were burning from the acrid air, and he was beginning to wonder if the atmosphere was even habitable for humans.

"Mostly swamp and more swamp," John said helpfully. "But I saw a little bit of swamp off that-a-ways a few minutes ago."

Jack didn't laugh. Neither did John. The oppressive environment was stifling to their senseless quips, which at least gave them time to ponder cleverer ones.

"A man could get lost out here," said a deep, drawling voice from behind them. Jack stopped and swirled to face it with a flash of perfect teeth.

"We could use a guide," John said, wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulders.

The creature they were talking to was hard to make out through the smog, but it appeared to be at least a head taller than Jack, and easily three times as wide. It was plated in a shell that looked soft and squishy, with long external gills flowing from its bulky neck and jaws. There were no eyes that they could make out.

"Nice to meet you," Jack said, offering a hand. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and we are so incredibly lost."

The creature did not accept his handshake. It simply stood there, unmoving save the languid flow of its gills in the mist.

"Captain John Hart," John said, hands on his hips.

The creature did not offer a name. For a moment Jack thought it hadn't heard them, or maybe _couldn't _hear them. But then, it opened its gaping mouth wide like a bullfrog, and spoke again.

"The forest does not play nice with _tourists_."

"Like I said," John said with a shrug. "We need a guide. You look like a great tour-guidey kind of guy."

Again, the creature was silent, surveying them contemplatively.

"You'll find a town just south of here," it grumbled finally. "Folks won't be happy to see you."

"What?" said Jack. He made a broad gesture with his hands encompassing the whole of his body. "Everybody loves me."

"Even I love him," John said with a careless shrug. "What can you do?"

"People say it's the coat," said Jack, "but it's when the coat comes off that the real party starts."

"It's true," said John. "Shoulda seen him before the coat. He'd prance around in shirts made of tissue paper so they'd tear right off at the first sign of a tussle."

"Your banter is mundane. I tire of it," said the creature. Before either of them could jab a witty comeback though, it had faded away, back into the muck.

"Did you hear that?" John said, with a giggle. "He called you mundane."

"No way," said Jack, "He was looking at you."

"No, no, he was captivated, my friend. Watching you with his wide, baby blue eyes. Staring right at you like you had a massive boil on the middle of your forehead."

"So… " Jack said, ignoring him. "What's the plan, then?"

John shrugged.

"South?"

"South is _not _a plan."

* * *

Meanwhile, topside, things were going just as smoothly- if a little less wet.

"Why me?" said Sacha, eyes locked on something in front of him.

"You're the smallest," Xar said dismissively.

"And the least dispensable," Sacha said with a grimace.

"How is there even a debate about this? Aren't you like, basically blood related to caves?"

"Not even touching that one," said Sacha.

"Come on, be a man. Just stick your head in the hole and wiggle around for a while."

"_Fine._"

Sacha got on his knees, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he inspected the hole like one might do with a questionable pair of very tight pants. There was probably enough room to get in, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to get back out.

Xar whistled and smacked his ass, and he decided he was probably okay with that.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" Sacha said, disappearing into the hole.

"Aw, don't be that way," Xar said, but her voice was distant and echoy from inside the tunnel. "Imagine if that was the last thing you ever said to me. How would you feel then?"

"If I died, you mean? Probably not strongly either way." There was a long pause. "Due to being dead."

No answer. Ahead of him, Sacha saw nothing but pitch dark. Behind him, the exit was nothing but a vaguely yellowish glow. The claustrophobia set in almost immediately, stone walls pressing against his shoulders and back. Eyes that had guided his ancestors through unlit caverns had become lost somewhere down the evolutionary line.

Sacha felt a spike of panic when he realized he couldn't even reach for a gun. He was imaging something else sliding through the tunnel, something long and serpentine that belonged in a place like this. He imagined he felt warm breath from behind him.

"Fucking shitrooster, I hate her so _much_," he mumbled under his breath, afraid to curse any louder and risk calling attention to himself.

And then he fell out of the tunnel with a sickening slurp, reeling forward into what felt like a swimming pool full of oatmeal. He splashed around furiously for what felt like a lifetime before he realized that whatever he was standing in was only a few feet deep.

Hands quivering slightly, he tapped on his comm.

"I found an opening," he said, sounding acceptably sassy despite his nerves. "Some sort of cavern, but I can't tell how big it is. Can we go over again why I can't use a fucking light?"

"It'd attract attention," said Xar on the comm.

"Sure, sure, but what's the point of coming in here if I can't _see_?"

"You're scouting," said Xar. "Good job, now that we know it gets wider, I can help. Cobalt can keep watch, and… I'll bring a light."

"_Thank you_," said Sacha.

He decided not to tell her about the slip-n-slide surprise at the end.

* * *

"_That's _what I'm talking about," John said, arms spread as he approached a building that looked undeniably like a bar. "Come on, we can get cozy with the natives, learn some fun facts, and get shit-faced as a bonus."

"That's your 'brilliant' plan?" said Jack. John shrugged at him. Jack shrugged back. "Okay. Works for me."


End file.
